omg, the world must be coming to an end.

so, the landlord sent this guy, very, very nice and almost apologetic, to see my SHOEBOX of an apartment to determine whether the OBSCENE amount of money he wants to raise my rent is worthy. (FUCK YOU MARY KATE AND ASHLEY OLSEN FOR DRIVING UP THE PRICES IN MY HOOD. GO. BACK. TO. CALI. WE DON'T WANT YOU HERE.) the jury is still out.

as fate would have it, friend of friend is renting a HUGEEEEEE one bedroom, a real one bedroom, not this two room studio i absolutely adore, don't get me wrong, but miss snippy landlordsofficesnip seems to think a 'one bedroom in the west village goes for easily double what i pay.' (but then a one bedroom in the village has heat and hot water consistently, a door, and a space so that if you extended your arms, you wouldn't touch either wall, but i digress.) so this one bedroom, much cheaper than what i'm paying now, the landlord is a sweetheart, the area is lovely, but one thing. it's in queens.

QUEENS.

i'd have to rename the blog. i honestly don't know what to do, to be honest. see more places to start, but huzzah, this wouldn't be a bad ending.

of course, first and foremost, i love this little place with all my heart and soul. it would kill me to leave, but today's lesson, boys and girls, is that, as marge always says, 'sometimes god doesn't shut a door without opening a window.' a window in queens, perhaps. to be continued.